


On Lucy and how she came to him.

by thingsishouldntbedoing



Series: The Lionhearted [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Gen, aside fic, it's just here, there's no reason for it, this is just really cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 00:37:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2753102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingsishouldntbedoing/pseuds/thingsishouldntbedoing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cullen finds a mountain lion cub he's hard pressed to find someone to take her. [Aside to The Summer's Flower]</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Lucy and how she came to him.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a part of [The Summer's Flower](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2666057/chapters/5959244) but instead it was eventually cut. I hope you enjoy!

He heard it before he saw it, standing at the gates with some of the outgoing scouts. He thought it might have been the sound of the grates rising but the sound continued, soft and persistent.  
  
“Do you hear that?” He looked around curiously.  
  
“Sir?” The scout looked at him as if he was losing his mind. “I… hear horses.” He gestured to the carriages that were trundling up the bridge.  
  
“No it’s… something else…” he turned around when another soft noise drew his attention. “Excuse me for a moment…” he started off, jumping down off the short drop into the snow and wading carefully.  
  
“Commander Cullen?” The scout looked baffled, glancing around.  
  
He tuned his hearing in, searching for the soft noise against the rumble of the carts. He knew he must look insane standing up to his waist in snow, pushing snow about like a child, but when he heard the muffled noise again he felt relief in his chest.  
  
“ _Hello_ ,” he murmured, digging into the snow bank. He pulled his glove off with his teeth, delving his hand into the den.

“You know if you wanted to prove your worth you could have thought of a better way than soaking your balls in snow.” He heard Dorian’s voice behind him, glancing over his shoulder to see the mage standing beside the scout that he’d been directing.  
  
“Haha I’m laughing really,” Cullen turned his head back, shoving his shoulder further into the burrow. Finally his fingers brushed something fuzzy and soft-- and cold. Sadness dropped into the pit of his stomach and he dug further, the sound growing louder now.  
  
“What _are_ you up to?” He felt heat behind him, glancing back again to see Dorian approaching him with flames around his hands.  
  
“I’ve found a den of kits,” he answered.  
  
“You sure they aren’t Nugs?”  
  
“No they’re…” tiny paws with smaller claws bit into his hand and delight bounded into his chest. “C’mere you little--” he swiped, fingers barely brushing fur.  
  
“Cullen, I say this with all the affection in the world for you, but you look like a lunatic.”  
  
He slid, the ice his boot had been braced against breaking under the pressure, but his face was triumphant despite the wrenching pain in his shoulder. His hand emerged, clutched tightly around a small body that protested immediately upon being removed from its home.  
  
“You heard _that_ from the _bridge_? You’ll be one hell of a dad,” Dorian crouched down. “It’s a kitten!”  
  
“Yes I told you I’d -- ow quit,” he rolled the tiny creature in his palm, all spots and flailing legs. “There’re no tracks here… but there hasn’t been snow in weeks.”  
  
“Are there more?” Dorian’s face sank at Cullen’s shaken head. “Oh…”  
  
“What… do I do with it? Would be better to end it now… instead of letting it die of starvation…” Cullen looked down, biting his other glove off and covering the tiny animal with his other hand to keep it warm.  
  
“What in Thedas are you two doing out here?” Josephine scolded. “I was just sent for by a scout because you two are standing out in the snow!”  
  
“We found a kitten and Cullen wants to kill it.”  
  
“Pavus! Josephine what he means is that its mother hasn’t been here in weeks and the rest of the litter is dead. I thought it would be better to…” He felt the creature settle down, curling into a tight ball in his grip. “Better to…”  
  
“Better to what, Commander?” Cullen glanced up at Dorian, then back down to the softly purring creature in the warmth of his palms.  
  
“I can’t kill it can I?” If he could have seen himself he was sure he would have looked a little lost, or as Dorian had said: like a complete lunatic, standing in waist deep snow with his hands held out in front of him and his heart visibly breaking on his face.  
  
“No I don’t think you could even if you wanted to,” Dorian snorted.  
  
“What… what do I do with it? Josephine?” He offered his hands to her.  
  
“Me!? No I have no time for a kitten!” She waved him off. “You could try Leliana?”  
  
“No… Perhaps…” Cullen looked at Dorian.  
  
“Oh no! Once I’m healed up I’ll be back out in the field with the Inquisitor.”  
  
“Inquisitor! Arielle would take--” he hesitated. “She has no time…”  
  
“Why don’t we go get it some food while you decide?” Josephine suggested. “I’m sure we have some goat’s milk.”  
  
Cullen trudged after them, feeling a little sheepish with such a small creature in his hands. He would find _someone_ to take care of it.

  

* * *

 

He found himself, not but a few hours later, sitting at his desk with the kitten on an old cloth and milk on his finger. He rested his cheek against his free fist, watching the miniscule creature suck his fingertip and mewl for more. Watching the creature move and breathe and listening to its tiny, exhausted sounds calmed the edges of his nerves and held him still. Normally his muscles would be aching, an uncomfortable nervous energy would be coursing through him, and he’d have to stand and walk around his office… for now he simply watched the kit drink with a strange mesmerization, feeling its tiny teeth against his finger and the rough pass of its tongue. It fell asleep curled against the hand he’d used to feed it, curling into a tight little ball.  
  
People passed into his office with curiosity, having heard of his antics earlier in the day, and the kitten slept through it all, little round belly rising and falling. He was almost afraid to move his hand, sitting in place with all his Templar endurance despite the pain in his legs and the desperate desire to run laps around the courtyard.  
  
When the sun faded and peoples’ curiosity seemed to run out he was still sitting patiently with the kitten tucked inside his wrist. He had shifted finally, holding his breath for the entire ordeal, sitting closer to the edge of the desk so he could work around the creature that seemed to have made itself at home.

“What should I do with you?” He murmured. A soldier had brought him dinner, which he’d been forced to eat with one hand, but now he was right back where he’d started… finding someone to take care of the kitten. “Isn’t there _anyone_ that’s _sane_ around here?” He sighed.  
  
He wasn’t about to hand off a tiny life to someone who would either A) corrupt it or B) kill it. Unfortunately that seemed to be what everyone around him wanted to do. Cassandra would care for it, he knew that, but she was with Arielle… why did Arielle have to take all the relatively _normal_ people with her all the time?  
  
He could ask Fiona… the head of the Mage Rebellion had a kind heart and gentle hands. Or maybe the Horsemaster, Dennet, since he was familiar with wild animals.  
  
“Are you _still_ sitting at your desk?” Dorian drew his attention. “How’s the little one?”  
  
“What little-- oh it’s alright.” He shrugged a shoulder.  
  
“Have you… how long has it been since you moved?” Dorian’s face nearly broke around his smile.  
  
“I’m not sure I appreciate the grin, Pavus,” Cullen frowned. “It hasn’t been that long.”  
  
“You haven’t moved all day… oh Andraste this is _good_. You love that little creature.”  
  
“I do _not_. I just didn’t want to budge it! It had its siblings die while it was starving and suffering… I just thought it needed… a break…” his words slowed as realization set in. “Anyway I’ve thought of someone to give it to.”  
  
“Yes? Who?”  
  
“Fiona.”  
  
“Well that’s a someone,” Dorian’s eyebrows nearly vanished into his hairline. “She’ll say no.”  
  
“It’s worth a try, the mages are here indefinitely and she could at least rehabilitate it.” Cullen nearly stood up but the kitten wrapped its arms around his fingers and he sat back down.  
  
“Oh you are so not going to get rid of that cat.”  
  
“Do you want me to break your other ribs?”  
  
“Why is it always _me_ that gets the threats of violence?” Dorian asked.  
  
“Because you’re the one that gives me the most headaches,” Cullen scooped the kitten up in his hand finally. “I’m going to see Grand Enchanter Fiona.”  
  
“Sure you are.”

 

* * *

  

He was severely disappointed that Fiona had said no, climbing up the ladder into his loft. He could feel purring against the side of his neck, the kitten tucked comfortably into the gap of his pauldrons and plate.  
  
“What am I going to do with you?” He sighed and sat on the edge of his bed, starting to unbuckle his plate. The kitten hopped down and wandered around on the bed, feeling better after its hourly meals and excruciatingly long nap.  
  
The tiny, whistling squeak it made nearly knocked it onto its back, arching under his fingers when he reached to pet it. The cub’s fur was soft under his fingers, the oversized paws wrapping around his hand when it rolled onto his back to kick at his palm playfully.  
  
“Ferocious,” he laughed. “Terrifying hunter of the night!”  
  
“What’s going on here?” He turned his head to see Dorian peering at him over the edge of the loft. “Oh yes that kitten you said you were _definitely_ going to get rid of.”  
  
“I am,” Cullen frowned. “I don’t have time to take care of a baby.”  
  
“You seem to be doing a bangup job of it,” the mage rested his chin on his folded arms, braced on the ladder.

“Why are you here?” Cullen pulled his hand away from the kit only to have it chase after his fingers, nipping and pouncing eagerly across the bed.  
  
“I have nothing else to do. I do get bored when Arielle is gone.”  
  
“So you bother me? I’m going to tell her you said you missed her.”  
  
“I have told her not to get herself killed, which is much easier without me there,” Dorian rolled his head to the side. “I do notice when people aren’t there. Like _you_. I’d certainly notice if you were gone.”  
  
“Indeed, who else would you harass when your other head isn’t here?” Cullen scoffed. “It’s like I’m dating both of you.”  
  
“Not a bad idea. I’ll have you on Tuesdays and Sundays and she can have you the rest of the time.”  
  
“You’re ridiculous,” he caged his fingers and challenged the kitten absently, tackling it to the bed with one hand.  
  
“You’re right it wouldn’t work between us. I’m a _mage,_ ” Dorian cackled.  
  
“Alright get out of here,” Cullen chucked a sock at him.

“Cullen,” he turned to see Dorian looking a bit downtrodden. “Could I ask you a question?”  
  
“I don’t know if I like where this is going…”  
  
“Do you find me… attractive?” There was a touch of empathy to his voice.  
  
“Erm yes?” He cleared his throat. “Yes? I suppose? I…” The cold trickle of embarrassment down the back of his neck when Dorian burst into laughter stoked his anger. “Bugger _off_.”  
  
“You should have seen the shock on your face! Of course I’m attractive!” He howled as he slid down the ladder, leaving Cullen sitting on the edge of his bed -- fuming.  
  
“I don’t think I like him that much,” Cullen told the kitten, only to receive another whistling meow in return.

He couldn’t say it didn’t make him smile that the kitten curled up in the crook of his shoulder when he laid down to sleep. He couldn’t say he didn’t pet its spotted fur until he fell asleep as well.  
  
That night was one of the very few that he was able to sleep peacefully.

 

* * *

 

He wasn’t sure how many people he’d asked over the next few days, how many times he’d pleaded for someone to take the kitten off his hands, until he was standing before the _last_ person he wanted to give a kitten to.  
  
“Andy… I know you’re going back to Kirkwall after this…” he sighed.  
  
“Is this about the cutie wootie you found earlier today?” She grinned. “So nice of you to think of me!”  
  
“Do you… think you could take it?” He watched her cradle the kitten in her arm, sighing heavily.  
  
“Sure, Commander Noodlehead,” she said fondly.  
  
“Really?” His heart leaped. “You’ll really take it?”  
  
“Yes I will, how could I say no?” She cooed.  
  
“You cut your hair,” Cullen said, awkward now in the silence. The Hawke he had met bore long sandy blonde hair, this Hawke had choppy bangs that fell over her face and shielded the bright blue eyes he’d seen both angered and joyous.  
  
“I did,” she smiled. “Don’t you like it?”  
  
“It looks… nice…” he nodded briskly. “I should get going.”  
  
“Are you in love, Cullen?” Leandra asked and he stopped short, running his fingers over the stone.

He remembered how Arielle had touched the walls of the hold when they had first arrived, how she had seemed so in awe of the history of the structure. He wondered if she had sensed something here, if something about the stones had absorbed the feelings of the peoples that had lived here.  
  
“If I am… it’s wonderful,” he answered.  
  
“I told you I was happy for you, I wasn’t lying,” she nuzzled her face against the kitten’s belly. “Cutie wootie~”  
  
“Imagine all of Kirkwall hearing their Champion say that,” he hummed.  
  
“Varric will write stories about it: The Kitten and the Champion. Like a detective story,” she chuckled.  
  
He started down the stairs, slowing to look back at her. “You know you have to feed it every few hours, right?”  
  
“Yes I did,” she nodded.  
  
“It likes milk…”  
  
“Cats usually do.”  
  
“But make sure it’s warm. Body temperature.”  
  
“Cullen do you want to feed her?”  
  
“Her?”  
  
“Yes she’s a girl. _Noodlehead_.”  
  
“Oh… take care of her, then,” he smiled. There was a strangely bittersweet feeling in his chest as he walked down, rubbing the back of his neck.  
  
 _I am not keeping that cat._

 

* * *

 

He sighed that night, flopping down on his bed to sleep, tossing and turning until finally he gave up and stared up into the stars above him, not quite sure why he couldn’t sleep. It might have been the fact that his skin itched and his muscles ached and getting comfortable seemed impossible without bending into some impossible angle. He _hated_ withdrawals.  
  
“Cullen?”  
  
“Thank the _Maker_ ,” he sat upright when he heard her voice and saw her climbing over the edge of the loft.  
  
“Excited to see me?” She unlaced her boots, shrugging out of her gear on her way to his bed.  
  
“You have no idea,” he caught his hand in her hair, still cooled from travelling, and kissed her. He liked these kisses, these moments when she returned and kissed him like her life depended on it, as if she couldn’t survive without the air from his very lungs.  
  
“I just got in,” she murmured.  
  
“I can tell you’re still cold.”

“ _That_ is something I’d like to change,” she laughed, wrestling with him on the way down to the bed.

He always fell asleep better with her there, with the warmth of her body beside him and the sound of her laugh still in his ears.

It was his _dreams_ that were the problem.

He shuddered, nightmares quaking his body -- torture rising to the front of his mind and plaguing him as if he were again trapped in a cage watching his fellow Templars fall. Something new entered his perception, a new pain like needles against the bare skin of his chest.  
  
 _Is my heart shaking?_  
  
He forced himself awake, pale and chilled in the starlight that flooded his room, looking around for what the source of the pain could be. He found the smooth expanse of Arielle’s back, instead, reaching out to coil a strand of her hair around his finger when the needle feeling returned.  
  
“What the--” he looked down to find the kitten perched on his chest, little round ears perked and tilted towards him. “Where did you come from?” He touched the ribbon around her neck and read the card curiously.  
  
‘ _She wouldn’t stop crying until I brought her back to you. Thought she might help the dreams. -_ Hawke’

“Cullen?” Arielle said his name groggily, lifting her head. “What’s wrong, hon?” Her hand curled around his arm as she turned ever so slightly.  
  
He couldn’t help the bubble of joy that burst in his heart at her casual affection, at the kitten tottering up to him and bumping its head against his chin, at the sheer absurdity of his situation.  
  
“Is that a mountain lion?” Arielle sat up, voice clearing.  
  
“A very small one…” he said fondly, giving a rough laugh as the cub tumbled down onto the bed. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it.”  
  
“Dorian did hint that you’d found a new _companion_ ,” she smiled, rubbing the cub’s ears.  
  
He thanked the Maker Arielle had enough sense to not immediately assume another _woman_.  
  
“Where did she come from? She wasn’t here when I arrived?”  
  
“Hawke snuck her in.”  
  
“ _Maker_ is it possible for _anyone_ to respect privacy around here? At the Circle at least we had _deadbolts_.”  
  
He couldn’t help but laugh, slinging an arm over his face, “This is ridiculous.”  
  
“That I want to install deadbolts? So people will stop bursting into the room and depositing wild animals our bed while we’re _sleeping_?”  
  
“Well… when you put it that way…”  
  
“Right. Deadbolts.”  
  
“I’ll have Josephine look into it,” he shied away from the kitten’s cold nose.  
  
“She loves you already,” Arielle leaned down to kiss him, hair draping over his chest.  
  
“I spent four hours in a statuesque state for her, she had better,” he caught her laugh between their lips.

 

* * *

  

After that Cullen was rarely seen without his feline companion. Even as she grew and her spots faded over the next months she was constantly by his side, bumping her head against those she knew and watching warily those she didn’t. The scouts grew used to her, greeting her with almost the same respect as the man who had trained her.

“ _Some_ people have Mabari. You took that one step further,” Arielle said to him one evening, rubbing the wild cat’s ears.  
  
“I didn’t mean to…” he watched his lover feed his pet a chunk of raw meat, wrinkling her nose at the smell. “Lucy sort of found me.”  
  
“ _Lucy_?” He could hear the amusement on her voice.  
  
“Luciana… I… it’s from a book I read a long time ago.” He cleared his throat.  
  
“I like it, suits her,” Arielle turned her attention back to the cougar, scratching under her chin. “Lucy~”  
  
“She helps,” he said honestly.  
  
“Does she?” Her face turned back to him, stroking the mountain lion’s head as Lucy licked her fingers.  
  
“When you’re not here… I don’t have anything _real_ to hold onto sometimes. She keeps me from getting in too deep.”  
  
“Maybe she really did find you,” Arielle smiled fondly.  
  
“That doesn’t sound stupid?”  
  
“No. If she helps you then that’s what’s important. You have scars in your past that are hard to bear… every shoulder to help carry them is less weight on you.”

He took those words to heart, relief settling into him.  
  
“Thank you, Arielle.”

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on tumblr at **[thingsishouldntbedoing](http://thingsishouldntbedoing.co.vu/)**. 
> 
> I'm tracking the tag **fic: the summer's flower** if you want to keep an eye on it!


End file.
